The End.

I think it's time to conclude this blog. I had kept it open for months, believing that Stephan and I would eventually end up in France, living our happily ever after as a married couple. I had been thankful that France had brought us together, that I had been fortunate enough to find that perfect someone to grow old with, the way people in movies do.
But as always, life throws curveballs.
For some reason, the wedding is cancelled. I'm not sure I understand why, and I'll likely never truly know the reason for it. I just received an email about a month ago reading, "I've been waiting for a good time to discuss this, but is there ever a good time for such news?" And just like that, it was over. The consulate was called and the fiancé visa was cancelled. I attempted to return the rings (no success), to cancel the bridesmaid dresses (half success), and to heal (success? the verdict is still out on that one).
And now, I'm struggling to find a new future. I moved into an apartment in the city about a week after the world ended. I've applied to Indiana Wesleyan in hopes of acquiring a teaching license for secondary English. In the meantime, I'm applying everywhere for a full-time job that will keep me above water financially.
And now, after all that, it seemed that this blog needed to be finished. I've thought a lot about the anecdotes contained here, about the lessons I learned, and the fun I had. After all that reflection, I've come to conclude that this blog turned out to be a love story--maybe not so much with a person as I would have hoped, but with a country. I loved France, and in her own cold-hearted way, France loved me back, I think. I didn't get the future in France I had hoped for, but France remains an ideal to me. And she has not disappointed.
So, La Belle France, it's been a good ride, but I think it's time to come up with a new dream.
I have loved you very much.
Croyez, Madame, à l'expression des mes sentiments les meilleurs,
Katie

Low

Well, here it is, over 3 months later, and I haven't written a word...  I suppose "This American Life"isn't quite as exciting as that old France life I used to know.   I've been substitute teaching, which is more than occasionally a nightmare.  On the evenings and weekends, I'm working at a retirement home, playing the one song I know on my ukulele and feeling pretty thrilled with myself when the residents praise me for my musical skill.
But as it is right now, I'm feeling those "mean reds" that Holly Golightly used to talk about.  Stephan flew over from France on March 25, and we spent these past two and a half weeks together.  They were pretty perfect.  We spent a week in the States and then a week visiting my brother and sister-in-law who currently live in the Dominican Republic.  We surfed, ate ridiculously enormous portions of food, lounged around in the sun, and tried our hands at Spanish and haggling.  It was a fun life. 
And now, Stephan's left, and I'm in bed at 10 on a school night. 
Stephan will be back in August, and if the government processes our application for our fiancé visa in the normal amount of time, we'll be getting married very soon after.  And then...?  The questions are still unanswered.  We still might end up in France.  But we still might be back here.  Time will tell,  I guess.
But right now, I'm wishing I could have frozen time...
My mind is right here...

Stoplights

So, I'm home now.  Back in Indianapolis, Indiana.  And in some way, I'm feeling like France never happened.
It's a strange thing, this returning.  I feel like I've slept through two years of American life.  All of the sudden, there are new shows like glee that I never knew were popular.  Starbucks doesn't sell the drink I want anymore, although bless Starbucks, they'll still make you about anything if you describe it well enough.  I left "not an aunt", and returned an aunt twice over (which happens to be the best part of coming back).

But also, another strange aspect of this returning, is that, this time returing to America, I have to remind myself that I DID live in France, because of course, this time there's an engagement ring on my finger, and Stephan and I are getting married, and this whole exciting future is stretching in front of us.  Will we live in France?  Will Stephan take that engineering position and move us to Morocco?  Or will we stick to the States?
Once when I was about ready to graduate college, I was driving down Pennsylvania, and all the stop lights were green, and I thought, "This is my future."  I could have chosen so many different roads.
For the past two years, though, there have been red lights.  I don't mean that in a bad way.  But I was stopped in one place.  My France life was all I wanted and I wouldn't have left (of course, signing contracts does play a role in that sense of stability), but now, I've just applied to be a substitute elementary school teaching position--not really my life dream--and so, the green lights are back on. 
Stephan and I are getting married, and we get to decide together where we go from here.  We could toss a coin on a world map.  We could, within reason, move anywhere.  Isn't that an exciting thought?
So, now, let the deciding begin....

New Kicks

So, a while ago, I showed a picture of a dress one of the Moroccan ladies in class brought back from her summer at home.  Now, I just wanted to take a brief moment to show you the new shoes that another student brought back from Morocco.
They are nice and bling-bling, huh?

I would say that no one else would ever wear the same shoes as me, but then again, this student brought a matching pair of shoes for my colleague too, so no such luck.

End of an Era - the bank edition

Just a few steps closer to the end:  I closed down my bank account today. 
After two years of grief from my bank, I was thrilled (and somewhat shocked) at how easy it was to close my account.  So, bless the bank.  Oh, and by the way, on my way out, my account counselor gave me a stuffed Alvin the Chipmunk for a souvenir.  He said I could give it to a younger sibling, but seeing as Jon's 23 now, I gave it to someone at the office who has actual children.  Still, it's the thought that counts, right?
So task number 45: Close down bank accout?  Check.

Snow and Being Katherine

So...I move home in 9 days, and this Paris experience of mine will come to an end.  Incroyable.  But I won't go into all the bittersweet feelings concerning this upcoming change. 
Instead, I'll say that for the moment, life continues as normal, although there is something a bit foreign on the ground...

We had a huge snow in the Paris area today.  From my experience, this kind of snowfall is unexpected for this early in the winter, and while Stephan groans about it and says, "I'm African.  I'm not made for this weather!", my spirits remain high.  I think snow is beautiful.  And most people around here have kept fairly positive about it (when they're not driving, that is).  As I was sloshing home in my soaked-through shoes, my neighbor was shoveling out his car, and he laughed when he saw me slipping past and said, "C'est Noel!"  And I do think that snow is pretty great during the Christmas season.
Today, I was passing through Les Halles and saw this church.  No matter how cold and wet the weather, snow does add a lovely touch to already beautiful scenery.

It's been a while since I shared an anecdote, so before signing off, just wanted to relate something that happened yesterday.
I was preparing to give my class when a very small, round French woman came into the building, and without preamble, said, "I've come to help out."
She turned out to be something of an odd duck.
She asked my name, and I told her, "Katie."
She replied, "I'll call you Kathy, then, because I don't like the name Katie."
Later on, she asked me if it bothered me that I had a diminuative form of a "real" name.  I told her no.  She said I should consider legally changing my name to Katherine, being as so many queens have carried the name Katherine.  I tried to act as though I were considering the suggestion...
Later, I made some Moroccan mint tea, and I had handed a glass out to each of the ladies, and I offered her a glass too.  She took it and drank the whole glass down.  When I offered her seconds, she said, "It's really far too sugary.
"Well, that's how they like it," I told her.
"Alright then.  Let me have another cup just to be sure," she said.  Sure enough, she drank the last glass down, telling me again how sugary it was.
She'll be coming to class again tomorrow if the snow doesn't keep her at home.  I hope to come out alive and with more stories...

The Creativities of Jour Fériés

Today is a jour férié, also known as a bank holiday.  My calendar tells me we're celebrating Armistice Day 1918.  On November 11, 1918, the Allies and Germany signed an armistice in Compiègne, France, thereby ending World War I.  So, today, all these years later, everything closes down in memory.
The bad weather has me rained inside, preparing lessons and stories for the coming week (I've also been working on my November Novel a bit!  Actually, no exclamation point belongs at the end of that sentence, because I'm sorry to say, this is my most abysmal novel yet.)  But what I hadn't thought about was the fact that I haven't been grocery shopping in a week, and so, have practically no food.  Here's a view of my refrigerator for any doubters out there.  There's some homemade ranch dressing I attempted, two pieces of badly made apple pie, two pear halves, an old container of lardons and some crême fraîche.  I'm not sure even Jamie Oliver could make anything out of these elements. 

Being Armistice Day, all the grocery stores are closed.  Fortunately, I found a frozen pizza shoved in the freezer, but more than anything, I badly wanted hot cocoa.  So, while I didn't have any packets of cocoa left, I decided to go through my cupboard and try to make cocoa on my own.  ON MY OWN.  That's a big thing for me.
So, off I went to try and make a miracle happen...

With a little cocoa, some sugar, some milk...

...and one failed attempt at whipped cream to put on top...

I finally made myself a fantastic mug of hot cocoa.  Maybe the best I've ever had even.  And, while working on this, I noticed there was a carmalized almond hot cocoa recipe on the back of my cocoa box.  Once the stores open again, I think I'll get really ambitious and see if I can make that!

But word to the wise, it's best not to drink too much cocoa and cream and milk.
Yesterday in class, I was teaching when one of my students pointed out toward the street and said, "Look that pregnant lady is coming."
The woman beside her replied, "That isn't a pregnant lady; that's just a fat lady."
So, better be careful from here on, now that I know that they notice those sorts of things.